Tuesday, February 19, 2013

Cat's Meow

Winchester between attacks on my writing chair

As I write this, my elbows are on fire. Not
literally, but they are burning with an intensity generally reserved for the
kind of sunburn Alaskans get when they visit Hawaii in the dead of winter, at
the peak of pallor, and fall asleep on the beach for the better part of a day.

“And why,” you may ask, “do your elbows burn?”

“It’s the cayenne pepper on the arms of my
writing chair.”

“Good lord!” you exclaim in disbelief. “Why is
there cayenne pepper on the arms of your writing chair?”

It’s the cat’s fault. It seems our resident
feline fur bag, Winchester, isn’t happy with me. To display his displeasure he
chews and bites chunks out of the molded foam armrests on my writing chair.
Over the past several months, I have been in the unenviable position of
perching at the very top of Winchester’s litter box list.There is no way to tell, with any certainty,
what offense has triggered his vindictive wrath. Cats are just that way.
Whereas a dog will remain loyal, affectionate and faithful throughout
practically anything, cats take offense at the slightest perceived affront.
Dogs are servile; cats maintain servants. However, if asked to guess what I did
to get on the cat’s bad side, my guess would be that it’s weather related.

Obviously, I'm to blame for the winter weather

Winchester fancies himself as sort of a macho
outdoor cat. He likes to strut his stuff around the yard, terrorizing small
woodland creatures such as voles and shrews. Truth be told, his gait couldn’t
really be called a strut. Since he dislocated his hip, his strut is more of a
gimp. Any woodland creatures that lay deceased in his wake are more likely to
have died of laughter than of feline ferocity. Nonetheless, when the weather is
above freezing, rain or shine, Winchester expects to be provided regular
opportunities to gimp about his territory.

It’s a different story during cold weather. He
still wants out, but when the door opens and the cold air rolls in, he sinks to
the floor, shakes his paws, and bobs in and out of the door trying to decide if
he’s going to make the plunge. As the temperatures decrease, so does the
likelihood of him actually slinking through the door. When the mercury headed substantially south of
the zero mark the first time this winter things got worse. No time was wasted
sinking down, shaking paws, or bobbing in and out. When offered his leave at
the back door, he simply spun around and walked off to try the front door. The
results were the same there, except he let fly several curt meows in my general
direction. Obviously, it was my fault the weather wasn’t any better out front
than out back.

It was at that point pieces of the armrests
started appearing on the floor at my desk. The brutalization visited upon the
armrests has increased in number and intensity as winter has progressed,
particularly during cold snaps.

Kitty revenge

The obvious solution was to keep my office door
closed, which I did. After several weeks of being denied the opportunity to
vent his anger, Winchester switched to guerilla tactics. He would wait until I
left the room for a moment, or was distracted. He would then seize upon the
opportunity to skulk into the room and hide. Upon my departure, he would amuse
himself by savaging the armrests, and then meow loudly at the door to proclaim
his victory. It was not long before the armrests began to resemble black,
shredded natural sponges.

In an attempt to save what little was left of
the armrests, I sprinkled cayenne pepper powder liberally on them. I figured
the powder was a downgraded form of bear spray. It may have slowed the gnawing
down a little, but observation indicates that is only because Winchester has
decided to devote more time to savoring the bites.“Oh! You shouldn’t have! How did you guess I
just love Cajun?” he seems to say as he strolls out of the office. “My
compliments to the chef.”

Temporary solution until the cat is tanned

Since that tack was less than successful, I
decided to remove the cayenne. Unfortunately, due to the shredded, porous
condition of the armrests, I have not been able to completely eliminate the
powder. Wiping, brushing and vacuuming have all been tried without complete
success. Therefore, whenever I sit down to write, even without deadlines, I am
truly in the hot seat.

With any luck, we are in for one more, sure
enough for real, bone-chilling cold snap so Winchester will remove the armrests
entirely. Barring that, I guess I’ll get the armrests recovered. I’m thinking
something in a natural tabby cat hide.

Shameless plug: This post is an excerpt from Home is Where the Harm Is, the second volume in the Of Moose and Men series. Besides raising funds to purchase a new writing chair, 25% of all royalties from Home are donated to cancer research. The book is available for e-readers at this Amazon link.